


Simple Comforts

by kitana



Category: Moon Child (2003)
Genre: Comfort, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-06
Updated: 2006-07-06
Packaged: 2018-01-15 15:25:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1309759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitana/pseuds/kitana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As he watches Kei, Sho thinks of everyone else. Thinks of Son and Yi-Che, Shinji and Toshi… everyone that’s gone now, in some form or another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple Comforts

**Author's Note:**

> Set towards the end of the movie.

It’s been a long time since their first encounter, but Sho can still remember first meeting Kei. It’s clear as summer sunshine, how pathetic and beaten Kei looked, not far from being comatose. His hair was streaked with dirt and his skin was fading into colourlessness, yet the one thing that stood out amongst it all was Kei’s eyes — expressive and expressionless at the same time. They spoke of a weariness people shouldn’t ever experience.

That’s what made Sho decide to drag him along in that little cart against his will. It’s what made Sho stick by Kei’s side, even after realizing that Kei was human no longer, and hadn’t been for quite some time. _No_ , Sho thinks abruptly. That’s not what made him stick by Kei all this time.

Sho slouches back in a little lime green chair, next to the bed that he and Kei share – well, more along the lines of timesharing. Sho and Kei never managed to sleep quite at the same time. This time, though, Kei’s the one asleep. Sho touches a thin cigarette to his lips and lights it, sucking to make sure it’s lit properly, breathing in and tasting the sharp tang of the smoke.

As he watches Kei, Sho thinks of everyone else. Thinks of Son and Yi-Che, Shinji and Toshi… everyone that’s gone now, in some form or another. Kei’s the only one left with him, not by choice, but Sho is grateful all the same. When he told Kei that he couldn’t go on alone, he’d meant it with everything he had.

Sho let his eyes rest on the blonde man for a moment; there’s a strange peace about Kei now that wasn’t there nine years ago. Kei’s breathing is deep and even, and his face has a rare quality about it this night. The lines in Kei’s face have smoothed out, and his lips are parted slightly. He finds himself wondering what Kei dreams about while the nightmares are away. The smoke of his cigarette curls lazily around his nose, and he exhales, blowing it all away.

The cigarette is almost to its filter when Sho finally turns to grind it against the nearest ashtray. He turns back to look at Kei again, and sees sleepy brown eyes focused on him.

“You were watching me,” Kei says, and it’s not a question.

“Mmm,” Sho nods in reply, and moves from his chair to the edge of the bed.

Sitting here like this, the world seems to stop for just a little while, and it makes Sho ache with loss. Kei is still staring at him now, not expecting anything, not even words. The silence is near deafening, and Sho wants to say something, but he doesn’t know what. They’ve caught up on the situation in the world; there wasn’t much left to address, but …

Instead, Sho holds his gaze, inching closer to Kei, finally lying beside the vampire, face buried into his chest. When Kei doesn’t move, Sho isn’t quite sure this is okay anymore, to be so near after so long. After a moment, though, Kei’s arm comes around Sho’s shoulders, holding him close and firm. Sho lets out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, and the tension in his shoulders melts away.

“Aa. Sho,” Kei says, interrupting the silence. There’s a bit of amusement in his voice. “You missed me a lot?”

Sho doesn’t bother to look up at Kei, muttering instead. “Don’t be stupid; I said I did, didn’t I?” And as much as he tries to hide them, there are obvious tears in his voice; hearing this, Kei goes quiet again. His fingers find themselves at the base of Sho’s neck, blunt fingernails scratching soothingly at a little patch of hair there.

Sho rubs his face against Kei’s shirt, wiping his tears on it not unlike a child, and it startles him how familiar that one motion is. Since when had he last actually cried? It has been so long since he has really shed tears; lately, his grief only seems to come out in choked little noises of shock and the ricochet of launched bullets.

Kei only shakes his head, planting a light kiss at the top of Sho’s head. If Kei had of known that his departure would’ve left Sho in such a state, he’d have never left. Regret and heartbreak seemed to be destined to follow him, but maybe, just maybe, he could ease it this one time.

If anyone deserved it, it was Sho, most of all.


End file.
